


Behind the credits

by hyugapineapple



Series: Translated works [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Injuries, Romance, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyugapineapple/pseuds/hyugapineapple
Summary: “Give me an interview.” Akaashi says instead of greeting him.“Good morning to you too.” Kuroo’s face lights up with a smile. “I won’t.”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Translated works [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878976
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87





	Behind the credits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Terquedad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terquedad/gifts).
  * A translation of [За титрами](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21347488) by [Terquedad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terquedad/pseuds/Terquedad). 



> First and foremost, I would like to thank @Terquedad for writing this wonderful piece and for publishing it. I'm not kidding when I'm saying that this is one of my favorite KuroAka works out there! Russian fics just hit differently  
> Second, thank you for letting me translate this work. I truly enjoyed working on it and I do hope that it would get more recognition too!❤️❤️ 
> 
> If you speak Russian, check the author's works and offer them appreciation!❤️❤️

Akaashi opens another can of beer and clicks on his mouse. Every opened tab, and there are more than ten of them, are news articles about Kuroo Tetsurou. The youngest professional stuntman. The most demanded out of them all. The riskiest one. The one who performs the most difficult maneuvers. His stunts are so well done, the film crew rarely needs more takes to shoot them. The most, the best – these are the words often used in the stories about him.

Articles, but not a single interview.

Akaashi sips from his beer can and scrolls through one of the latest reports. It contains the same, usual information: where was he born, how did he get enrolled at the stunt school, what kind of scenes did he shoot, what movies was he cast in. The reviews made by directors or fellow actors, all of them almost identical, are used and reused in every published article about Kuroo Tetsurou. This fact does not satisfy Akaashi. Being the most stubborn, obnoxious reporter, one who is brave enough to interview even the most secretive people, Akaashi cannot just write a story based on things written in the past. He erases a good half of his questions from his list, simply because he fears that the answers given to them would sound just like the ones from the articles he read before and continues scrolling.

Kuroo Tetsurou’s Instagram profile is filled with his self-satisfied face, landscapes, or photos taken from filming sets – none of them having any kind of description. There’s nothing to cling to. He does not answer calls directly either – Akaashi managed to get his phone number, but all his calls and texts remained unanswered. Same with the messages sent on Instagram, Line, and other messaging apps linked to the said number. His manager, obviously, promised that he would let Kuroo know that Akaashi called and that if he would be ever interested in giving an interview, he would immediately be contacted.

Seems like he’s not interested. We’ll see about that, Akaashi thinks. It’s close to three in the morning, and Akaashi’s beer can is close to being emptied when, on the old photos posted more than 10 years ago on Kuroo Tetsurou’s abandoned Facebook page, he spots a familiar face. He even pulls his laptop closer, thinking that he’s hallucinating. But no. Next to Kuroo, whose expression isn’t as smug as in his present pictures, is Bokuto Koutarou. Who could even imagine that Kuroo and Akaashi could have a mutual acquaintance? 

Akaashi turns off the laptop and goes to sleep with a feeling of satisfaction. It’s time he meets Bokuto and drinks coffee with him, or something stronger if he doesn’t want to talk.

They plan their meeting for the following day. By some happy coincidence – would you look at that, how lucky Akaashi is – Bokuto is in Tokyo, and not at another away game or in a training camp. First, Bokuto bows ceremoniously when they meet, showing a face splitting grin, then hugs Akaashi tightly and laughs happily.

“I’m so happy to see you! I’ve read your last interview and it was amazing, as usual.”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi pauses to make his order as their waitress approaches them, then continues. “How have you been? I watched your last game, you did very well.”

Akaashi remembers well how Bokuto used to react to his praises back in high school. And after so many years, nothing has changed: Bokuto’s smile widens and he almost bounces on his chair and slaps his palms on the table.

“Did you see, did you see how I scored in the last seconds of the game?”

“Of course I did, Bokuto-san, I’m always watching your games attentively.” Akaashi answers, and he’s truly happy that Bokuto does not change. Physically, yes – he has got taller, his shoulders are wider, stronger. Akaashi, with his now skinny figure, feels small next to him. But on the inside, Bokuto has remained the same: filled with irrepressible energy, endless positivity, and hyperactivity. Akaashi is genuinely happy to see him whenever they meet.

“I miss you very much, Akaashi. I miss us playing together. Journalism has really gotten you hooked.”

“I miss playing too, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi decides to get straight to the point. “Actually, I came to ask you for a favor.”

“What is it?” Bokuto drinks his coffee – black, no sugar or cream, he needs to follow his diet.

“Are you acquainted with Kuroo Tetsurou?”

Bokuto narrows his eyes and grins.

“He does not give interviews to anyone.”

“I know that.” Akaashi answers and drinks the rest of his coffee, black as well, but because he feels an incredible urge to sleep. “But still, do you two know each other?”

“Of course.” Bokuto nods vigorously. “He’s my best friend. Second to you, obviously.” He hurries to add.

“Obviously.” Akaashi almost smiles. “Then, maybe you know where his current film set is located?”

Unexpectedly, Bokuto turns serious, then laughs. “Do you want to descend upon him, catch him and force him to give you an interview?”

Akaashi just vaguely shrugs.

“Keep in mind that he masters several martial arts and can make a weapon out of everything. Even out of a rag.”

“I understand, Bokuto-san.”

“Fine.” Akaashi doesn’t even need to try to convince Bokuto. “I can’t just refuse to help my best friend of them all.” He tells Akaashi where the filming studio is, and then adds. “But I didn’t tell you anything.”

“Of course.” Akaashi nods contentedly, saving the gathered data in his notes, then turns his attention back to Bokuto. “So, who are you playing against in your next game?”

* * *

The filming studios are located at the very edge of the Nerima ward. Akaashi is lucky that Kuroo is in Tokyo in the first place: before he left, Bokuto told him that in three weeks, Kuroo will be flying off for a lengthy shoot at Kyushu. So, Akaashi has roughly three weeks for everything. He arrives before sunrise, parks his car aside, straightens his suit, wraps his coat tighter, and walks across a graveled area to the pavilion. Filming has already begun. There is so much going on on the site that no one pays attention to Akaashi. He effortlessly walks past the barrier line, catches the first assistant running around, and asks where to find Kuroo Tetsurou. The other just vaguely waves his hand in another direction and runs off. Akaashi looks at the other side of the large pavilion. The lights are on, and the people aren’t running but staying still. He walks in the said direction and only when he’s close enough, he understands what’s going on. Rehearsals.

“Faster! You need to move faster!” shouts some man which Akaashi thinks is the director. He walks closer, trying to stay in the shadows, but observes everything around him. In a small area of the pavilion, free of other people, two are fighting. Both are dressed like ninjas and move so clearly, beautifully, and quickly that to Akaashi, it seems impossible to move even faster. A staged fight, even without other effects, looks amazing, and Akaashi finds himself captivated by the sight. He jumps when he hears someone shouting. “Break time!”

He quickly backs against the wall, in case someone realizes that there’s an intruder there. The two ninjas bow to each other and then separate. Their faces are covered by fabric, Akaashi can’t figure out who Kuroo is. Deciding to go by guessing, and if he’s wrong, just to try again, he slowly but confidently makes his way to the one who’s closer to him. He catches up to him, stops in front of him, and before the man blinks his surprise away, Akaashi speaks.

“Are you Kuroo Tetsurou?”

“No.” the ninja answers immediately. Akaashi looks into his amused eyes and he feels the lie.

“But-” he starts, but can’t finish speaking because someone calls Kuroo, and the ninja staying in front of him turns to the said voice.

What a pathetic liar.

“Wait a minute, please.” Akaashi steps to the left, in the same direction where Kuroo is headed to. “Please don’t go.” He repeats, taking another step in time with Kuroo. “I said wait-” Akaashi barely can make three steps to the right to prevent Kuroo from leaving. The stuntman’s eyes are no longer amused but intrigued. He pulls off his fabric mask, and Akaashi is met by a smirk. “Let me interview you.”

“No.” Kuroo simply answers, then moves his legs so fast in the opposite direction that he is now behind Akaashi and the journalist barely has enough time to catch him by the elbow. The next moment, his arm is twisted and immobilized against his back and Kuroo grabs his free arm by the shoulder, completely stopping Akaashi from moving.

“Your reflexes are great. Do you wrestle?” Kuroo asks against his neck.

“Volleyball.” Akaashi answers and tries to break free, but only causes himself pain.

“Stop squirming, you could break your arm like that.” Kuroo says, and Akaashi can almost feel his smile. “You won’t be able to play anymore.”

“I quit.” Comes the other’s response, but he does stop moving.

“How come?” Kuroo asks, as if the two are having a casual chat, and not like Kuroo is holding Akaashi in a tight grip.

“I’ve always wanted to become a journalist.”

“So that’s how it is. I think you’d be better as a player than a reporter.”

Kuroo suddenly lets him go and takes a few steps back.

“Have you read my works?”

“Obviously.” Kuroo laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m always reading the articles written by those journalists who have found almost all of my contacts.”

“Will you give me an interview then?”

“Nah.”

“Oh yes. Yes, you will.” Akaashi’s tone is serious and he too crosses his arms, watching Kuroo’s sincere surprise.

“Kuroo-san!” a tall young man with light gray hair runs over to them and gives Akaashi a suspicious look. “Shall I call security?”

“No, it’s alright.” Kuroo smiles. “He is an acquaintance of mine. He may pass by these days.”

The next day, Akaashi comes over even earlier and he’s not wearing his suit, but rehearsals are already underway. Do they even sleep? He once again makes his way to the filming pavilion and tries to stand at a distance, but Kuroo, somehow, notices him and gets next to him.

“Give me an interview.” Akaashi says instead of greeting him.

“Good morning to you too.” Kuroo’s face lights up with a smile. “I won’t.”

He leaves Akaashi and steps into the circle of light next to his fight partner and joins the rehearsal. Today, they’re rehearsing hand-to-hand combat again. There are a lot of fighting techniques, and Akaashi can’t tell whether they pick one or all of them. But the most important question is – is it for one film alone? Is it even a film they’re making?

“What are you filming?” Akaashi approaches Kuroo during his break. The other takes off his headscarf, ruffles his black hair, and gives Akaashi the same smile from yesterday.

“Is this a question from your interview?”

“No, I have more interesting questions for that.”

“A drama.” Kuroo drinks water greedily and wipes the sweat on his forehead with a towel. His chest rises and falls heavily from exertion, his hair is damp, sticking to his face. Akaashi thinks he can feel the heat radiating from Kuroo’s body from where he is standing.

“The leading actor can only flaunt his pretty face in front of the camera.” Kuroo chuckles. “The rest is on me.”

“Is it hard?”

“Is this for your interview?” 

Akaashi barely holds back the urge to roll his eyes.

“No, just my curiosity.”

“Do you find me interesting, Akaashi-san?” Kuroo smiles.

It’s even harder for Akaashi to keep a straight face.

“I wouldn’t be interested in interviewing you if I wasn’t.”

“The editor is the one who is responsible for this kind of thing.” 

“I asked for it myself.”

“Give up.” Kuroo takes another gulp of water, and his breath is calmer.

“Absolutely not.”

Akaashi meets Kuroo’s intense gaze with confidence and does not look away. He doesn’t even blink. Their small staring contest is interrupted by some minor film crew member – he runs up, grabs Kuroo by the arm, and drags him away, leaving Akaashi alone. Akaashi finds himself a secluded corner with a clear view of the site and prepares to wait. Wait as long as it’s necessary.

“Who are you?” A man asks menacingly and by his looks, Akaashi thinks he could be the queen’s personal guard. He seems to be the kind to break your spine effortlessly.

“I-” Akaashi is about to give out a vague excuse, but the ever-present Kuroo Tetsurou is nearby, slaps the bully just below the shoulder - he simply can’t reach higher, and says:

“He’s my fan.” He looks at Akaashi and his smile doesn’t change. “He threatened he would slash his veins if I won’t allow him to come and see us filming. Leave him be. He’ll get tired of hanging around soon.”

“I won’t.” Akaashi purses his lips.

“We’ll see about that.” Kuroo fucking Tetsurou grins and leads the brute away.

Akaashi spends the whole day at the site. And then another one. And so on. He starts to understand their routine a little. The filming of action and main scenes with the main cast goes simultaneously. The scenes filmed indoors are rehearsed at around 5-6 in the morning. Filming itself begins at about 8 or 9 AM. When it comes to filming outside, it all depends on the weather. One time the rehearsals were abandoned and everyone abruptly ran to film scenes that, according to the plot, were supposed to take place early in the morning, all because the dawn was exactly the way the director imagined it to be. Thank you, Mother Nature.

Akaashi stands wrapped in a woolen coat, and he is freezing. Either because of his constant lack of sleep, or because the autumn morning turned out to be too frosty, but he notices neither the beauty of the rising sun, nor the charm of the actors’ costumes, nor the harmony of nature. He doesn’t notice anything until a warm blanket is laid on his shoulders and a paper cup of delightfully hot tea is handed to him.

“Thank you.” Akaashi smiles lightly, accepting Kuroo’s caring gesture with gratefulness.

“Don’t die here.” Kuroo quickly replies and runs back to his colleagues.

By the second week, Akaashi thinks that he doesn’t really need this interview. Once again hitting the snooze button on his alarm clock and having barely any energy to open his eyes at four in the fucking morning, he thinks that he doesn’t need this Kuroo Tetsurou even if he came to Akaashi by his own choice. Everything that he got to learn during this period is that Kuroo works like he’s possessed, moves like a predator, and owns some kind of animalistic magnetism and attractiveness; his hearing is like that of a bat, and his sight is like that of a hawk – he hears everything, sees everything and is there at the most necessary, or on the contrary, worst moment. He also has stupid jokes, always with a smile on his face, and constantly teases Akaashi. It’s too little material for a good article. But now Akaashi learned more about the filming process than he ever imagined he could.

‘Maybe I could write about the filming crew? That could work.’ He muses as he twists the shower tap to turn the cold water on, hoping that it would help him to wake up.

‘It would make a good article.’ Akaashi thinks while pouring himself a coffee. 

‘Kuroo bloody Tetsurou and this damned interview.’ Akaashi debates with his inner self, but he’s already starting the engine, ready to drive to the filming set.

This time, Kuroo meets Akaashi in the parking lot, the moment the latter gets out of his car.

“Coffee?” he offers Akaashi a cup with a disgustingly happy smile.

‘Is he on pills or something?’ Akaashi wonders all of a sudden.

“No, thanks, I had some at home.” He answers, but Kuroo insists he takes the paper cup and Akaashi has to accept it.

They walk together through the parking lot in silence, toe-to-toe, the only sound being the gravel rustling under Akaashi’s feet. Kuroo moves almost silently.

“Why me?” Kuroo suddenly asks.

“Because you won’t give me an interview.”

“Only because of that?”

“Also because you are the most demanded stuntman, you perform the most dangerous stunts perfectly and you rarely need to redo your performances.”

“And that’s all?” Kuroo stubbornly insists.

Akaashi stops and turns to face him. Kuroo stares back in return. The smile on his lips, unlike the other times, is subtle, barely there.

“It’s because I don’t understand how you can work so much, do everything in the limit of your capabilities, while knowing that your-” he stumbles on his feet, “that your name will be shown in the credits, in the general list of stuntmen. In that part of the credits that no one ever watches. And no one from the multi-million audience will know who is hiding under the disguise of a ninja, or the killers from the latest action movie, or…” Akaashi cuts himself off, realizing that despite studying Kuroo’s filmography, he can’t bring more examples. And this, for fuck’s sake, must be terribly offensive. “I mean, they won’t know who the man behind all those stunts is.” Akaashi finishes speaking, drinking the remains of his coffee.

“No one cares about that.”

“I do. My readers do too.”

“And what do you mean no one knows?” Kuroo shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie and starts walking again. “People write articles about me!”

“They are talentless and one-sided.” Akaashi snorts into his coffee cup.

“I have almost a hundred thousand followers on Instagram!”

“I have one million of them.”

“What?” Kuroo turns to him sharply and looks at him with so much surprise that Akaashi can’t hold back a smug smile. “Is journalism this popular these days?”

“Most of them followed me before I became a journalist.”

“What else do you do besides volleyball?” Kuroo asks.

“Will you give me an interview if I answer this question?”

“No. You look awful, by the way.” Kuroo once again shows his arrogant smirk. “Go home and get some sleep.”

“Thank you for the compliment.” Akaashi raises his glass in salutation. “But I will sleep after the interview.”

The day passes in a kind of sleepy haze. Akaashi drinks coffee after coffee in such large quantities that by the end of the day, he thinks there’s coffee flowing through his veins and not blood. The filming just won’t stop, but Akaashi’s energy and strength are drained. He can barely move his legs as he makes his way to his car. The sun has already set, what kind of torture is this? Is it even legal to work this much?

Akaashi sits in his car, his hands are on the steering wheel, and on top of them, he rests his head, trying to gain enough strength to drive back home.

A knock on the window wakes him up. Akaashi blinks sleepily and presses the button to roll the window down. Kuroo sticks his head inside the car.

“Let me drive you home.”

“I can drive myself.” Akaashi yawns so hard his jaw pops.

“Yeah, you’ll drive yourself into the first light post like that.” Kuroo laughs. He wears the same hoodie he wore in the morning and his hair is damp as if he just took a shower, which he quite possibly did. 

“And where’s your car?” Akaashi doesn’t bother to address him politely anymore.

“I ride a motorbike.”

“And you’re going to abandon it here? 

“Want to ride my bike? Then you’ll have to abandon your car here instead.”

“No, thank you.” Akaashi yawns again. “How will you get back here tomorrow?”

“You’ll drive me.” Kuroo laughs. “Don’t worry about that. Come on now, move, we could’ve been on our way by now.”

Akaashi pauses to think for another short moment and stares at the road ahead, but his vision is blurry.

“Alright.” He responds, moving to the passenger seat, and adds: “Thank you.”

“You owe me a cup of tea.” Kuroo gets in, examines the dashboard, pulls the driver’s seat a little, and reclines it.

“Deal. Name the day and the place.” Akaashi does not have enough energy to protest.

“Today. Your place.” Kuroo answers while starting the engine.

“This is the rudest way to ask someone to visit them.”

“But it works, doesn’t it?” Kuroo turns to Akaashi and smiles softly, and then the car moves abruptly from its spot.

“Please don’t kill us both on our way home.” Akaashi stares at the speedometer.

“Relax. Give me your home address and get some sleep.”

They don’t take long to get home. To Akaashi, it seems like he just closed his eyes, and he already feels insistent fingers touching his forehead, stroking his cheek and neck. He blinks sleepily and meets Kuroo’s gaze.

“You could’ve just shaken me by my shoulder.”

“We’re here.” Kuroo says, taking his hand back and getting out of the car. Akaashi’s face still tingles in the places where Kuroo touched him. He rubs his cheeks and wonders why the hell does it matter.

“Do you want to sleep in your car?” Kuroo asks and opens the passenger seat door, giving Akaashi his hand.

Akaashi does not ignore it and grabbing it with his fingers, he pulls himself up.

Kuroo kisses him right in the hallway. He presses the other against the wall, buries his fingers in Akaashi’s hair, and strokes him so gently and carefully as if he’s scared he might get slapped for what he’s doing. Akaashi understands that Kuroo is stronger than him. He also realizes, that even if he couldn’t possibly imagine this turn of events, he doesn’t mind it at all. He doesn’t want to resist it. When the first wave of stupefaction passes, he responds to the kiss. Kuroo pushes him, squeezes him into the wall, and slides his tongue into his mouth. Akaashi closes his eyes shut, kisses back greedily, and digs his fingers into Kuroo’s waist, hips rubbing against hips. His head hits the wall awkwardly, but Kuroo places his palm behind Akaashi’s nape. How thoughtful of him. Akaashi smiles in the kiss and bites Kuroo on the lip. Kuroo pulls back and steps away. Akaashi can’t see his eyes very well in the dim light, but he can feel their heat burning him. He smiles and licks his lips, then leans closer, right against Kuroo’s ear.

“Now,” his mouth brushes Kuroo’s earlobe delicately and adds. “Will you give me an interview?”

Instead of an answer, Kuroo grabs him by the neck and kisses him deeply and ravenously, then bites him back in revenge. He pushes the other rougher against the wall this time, barely managing to put his hand behind Akaashi’s head. Akaashi doesn’t really care if he hits his head or not, to be honest. What matters for him now is to hold Kuroo by his hoodie and pull him close. Perhaps, the pain would have woken him up from this crazy haze, but Akaashi isn’t sure anything could pull him out of this state. Except for Kuroo. He once again bites his lip, more to tease him than to cause him pain. And suddenly, everything stops. Akaashi breathes heavily as if he just finished rehearsing another wild fighting scene. He covers his burning face with his cold palms and tries to see what Kuroo is doing, but the light is too dull for him to make out anything.

“Would you go that far and sleep with me for that interview?” Kuroo’s voice is hoarse and surprisingly gloomy.

“What about you? Would you give me an interview if I slept with you?” Akaashi responds with the same tone.

“I would’ve agreed for a mere blowjob.” Akaashi can hear the smile in Kuroo’s voice again. At first, he goes still, then laughs loudly.

“Why didn’t you tell from the start? I wouldn’t have had to wake up at such early hours.”

“I like seeing you on the filming set.” Kuroo’s tone shifts from playfulness to a more serious one again. “So? Would you really do everything you can for an interview with me?”

“Kuroo-san, you know that this is not only about that interview.”

“Then what else?”

“Seems like it’s about you in general.” Akaashi exhales. “Ask me again.”

“Would you sleep with me for that interview?”

“Not that.” Akaashi sighs again. “Ask me if I am interested in you.”

“Are you interested in me?”

“Yes.”

“Even without the interview?”

“Even without the interview. But if you gave me one, you would make me very happy.”

“I’ll think about that,” Kuroo speaks evenly, but Akaashi feels his heart in his throat. “Will you let me see the questions earlier?”

“We could discuss that over a cup of tea.”

“Okay.” Kuroo speaks slowly. “Okay.” He repeats as if deciding on something. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t come to the filming set, you really need to sleep and rest.”

Akaashi doesn’t have time to protest because the hallway is flooded with light – Kuroo found the light switch. Akaashi squints, and by the time his eyes get used to the light, he notices that Kuroo is staring at him without his usual smile. He extends his hand and drags his fingers over his cheek, tugs at his lower lip, pulling it down a little.

“I like you even more like this.” Kuroo speaks while leaning closer then kisses Akaashi on the lips lightly. The soft peck makes Akaashi’s heart race in his chest the same way their previous kiss did. He closes his eyes, trying to calm down, and the next thing he hears is the door being closed shut. The hallway, aside from Akaashi, is empty.

Akaashi goes to the bathroom to see what Kuroo meant in the hallway. He stares at his reddened cheeks, at his unusually flushed lips, and his gleaming eyes. He thinks he too, likes himself more when he looks like this.

Akaashi turns off the light thinking that it’s been quite a while since he finished his evening by jerking off. He never touched himself imagining someone in particular before.

But Kuroo doesn’t get out of his head, either during the evening or the night. Akaashi can’t fall asleep; he keeps remembering every filming day, licks his lips, imagining their kiss, and gets aroused again, thinking of the way Kuroo touched him.

He falls in a peaceful slumber only by the break of dawn, wakes up around lunch, so exhausted and disoriented as if he didn’t sleep at all. There’s an unread text on his phone screen when he unlocks it.

>> _ Filming ends at five. I’ll be there by 6. _

Akaashi smiles, trying to blink away his sleepiness. He adds the number that he couldn’t find through any of his sources before to his contact and saves it as “Kuroo Fucking Tetsurou” then falls asleep again.

He wakes up after a few hours, or maybe 20 minutes, or maybe a whole day later. The sky is so gray and murky Akaashi can’t figure out what time of the day it is. He feels more energized, much more rested too. He spends a long time in the bathroom and only gets out because emptying and filling the bathtub with water for the third time in a row is not an affordable kind of luxury for him. He wipes himself with a towel, examines his flushed face, and bright with anticipation eyes in the bathroom mirror.

He barely manages to pull a shirt and his underwear on when the doorbell rings. He runs to his phone, it’s 6:30 P.M. already, and then to the main door, pulling it open without hesitation.

“Fuck.” Kuroo mumbles, standing in the doorway, and Akaashi feels his devouring look on him. He steps back from the door, looks down at himself then back to Kuroo, and tries to pull his shirt lower to cover himself.

“Fuck.” Kuroo repeats, shuts the door closed with a loud bang, takes off his shoes, and gets next to Akaashi in two silent steps, catching him by his hand, suddenly pulling him in a deep kiss. The first thing Akaashi feels is the autumn chill surrounding him and then comes the heat. He kisses back greedily, squeezes his eyes shut, almost forgetting how to breathe. Kuroo’s hands are everywhere. Fingers slide under his worn T-shirt, blunt nails scratch his protruding vertebrae, and then they go lower, gripping his ass cheeks. Akaashi inhales sharply and grinds his crotch on the rough jean fabric.

It all ends just as quickly as it started. Akaashi loses his support, leans against the wall, and opens his eyes. Kuroo stands in front of him, less than a step away, looking so lost and dazed and with so much lust in his eyes that Akaashi’s knees buckle. He just stares, without moving, saying, or doing anything. 

Kuroo fucking Tetsurou.

Akaashi steps ahead and unzips Kuroo’s too thin for such a weather hoodie. He lets his palms glide over his chest, his abdomen and smoothens the rough spots he feels underneath his palms. Could they be scars? He’ll confirm his theory soon enough.

He covers Kuroo’s crotch with his palm and squeezes it gently, feeling the warmth even though the fabric of his jeans. Akaashi observes his reaction with a small smile, lets his fingers glide over Kuro’'s cheek, and grabs him by his neck, pulling him close, and bites him on the lip.

“Tea, Kuroo-san?” he asks, not masking his mocking tone.

Kuroo does not answer. Kuroo lunges at him with newfound strength, pulls Akaashi to his chest with so much force he lifts him up a little. Akaashi hugs his neck with both hands and kisses him with so much vigor and need that it is getting hard to breathe. He breaks the kiss only to inhale shakily and lick his lips. Kuroo hardly gives him enough time to do that, he kisses him again, bites his lips, and drags his tongue over the line of Akaashi’s jaw, going for his neck next. Akaashi throws his head back, clings on Kuroo’s shoulders, and tries to resist, getting lost in sensations.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” Kuroo’s question pulls Akaashi out of his sweet bliss. Kuroo’s lips vanish, hands too. Akaashi moans disappointed and glares at Kuroo with all his might. He’s not thinking anymore, he let his heart guide him a long time ago too, so what the hell is not okay now? He wants to ask him, is this your hobby, Kuroo-san, to deny me? He wants to tell him that yeah, it’s an awful idea, they should drink some tea instead. He wants to kick Kuroo out and never see him again.

But instead of this plan, he smoothly gets on his knees without a single word, tugs at the button of Kuroo’s jeans, and unzips the fly, pulling his pants along with his underwear down before Kuroo can even say anything.

How can Kuroo even have second thoughts with a hard-on like this is a mystery to him. Akaashi isn’t obsessed with sex, but he can hardly hold himself back when he’s heavily aroused. Like he is now.

He licks his lips and takes Kuroo’s tip in his mouth. If Kuroo won’t take the hint, Akaashi will admit defeat and will go to the kitchen to brew the tea. Then he’ll tell Kuroo everything he thinks about this kind of behavior. He’s the one who kissed him first, came to his apartment, seduced him, and now he tries to step back.

Kuroo’s hips move so fast and suddenly Akaashi needs to grab him by his hips to prevent himself from choking. He pulls back, leaves Kuroo’s tip out of his mouth, drags his tongue over his glans, and then swallows his dick almost halfway. But he needs to put some effort to stop Kuroo from thrusting, Akaashi is not ready to deepthroat. When Kuroo’s fingers grip Akaashi’s hair, the shorter stiffens a little, but instead of pulling him closer, Kuroo grabs Akaashi’s dark strands till it feels almost painful and pulls him away.

“What now?” Akaashi asks, displeased. What the hell is going on inside of bloody Kuroo Tetsurou’s head? Akaashi never understood him, and with each passing second, he understands him less.

“I don’t want it this way.” Kuroo answers hoarsely. Akaashi can’t resist and rolls his eyes.

He stands up and crosses his arms.

“What-” he begins, and by now, he’s ready to fight Kuroo.

But Kuroo cuts him off. Pulling Akaashi to his chest, he touches his ear with his lips and asks: “Where is the bedroom?”

Akaashi smiles. He feels the way Kuroo’s hear drums wildly in his chest and how heavy his breathing is. He nods in the direction of his bedroom, steps back, and pulls Kuroo after him. He certainly likes the bed better than a blowjob in the hallway.

By the time they step inside the bedroom, both of them are naked. It only takes Akaashi to turn back to Kuroo that the other jumps on him again, throws him on the bed, and pins him down on the mattress with his own weight. He burns Akaashi with the heat of his body. Kuroo touches and kisses him with so much passion that Akaashi knows that this time, Kuroo won’t pull back.

Akaashi is fine with that.

* * *

Later that evening, when they finally pull away from each other, Akaashi brews some tea. But instead of stopping in the kitchen, he brings the cups to his bedroom.

“What?” He asks, noticing Kuroo’s fixed stare. He just placed the mugs on the nightstand, not having enough time to slip back under the bedsheets. And with a look like Kuroo’s, Akaashi knows he won’t have the chance to rest. He’s surprised to conclude that he likes the way Kuroo stares at him: attentively, with a light smile on his lips and fascination in his eyes.

“I like what I’m seeing.” Kuroo smiles and taps the bed cover next to him.

Akaashi straddles his hips. He examines him too, dragging his fingers over the long, crooked line on his side.

“Where did you get this from?”

“Is this an interview?” Kuroo grins.

Akaashi purses his lips and stares expectantly. Kuroo caresses his hips.

“I got injured a very long time ago. I think it was during my first filming. I had to climb a high wall, crawl under a spiked fence and jump from the other side. Safety wasn’t a top priority back then. I don’t remember very well what happened, either the safety belt got stuck or I miscalculated my steps. But I fell. I caught on a spike that was sticking out and slashed my skin open. They didn’t pay the medical insurance when that happened, so I had to sew the wound myself.”

“What do you mean sew it yourself?” Akaashi frowns, looking into Kuroo’s eyes.

“Exactly what you think.” Kuroo laughs humorlessly. “I bought a sewing kit from an acquaintance who worked in a pharmacy, something to disinfect the wound and whisky for bravery. Then I sew myself.”

“Just like that?”

“Oh no, I passed out a few times from the pain, but overall, I did a good job. Though, I drank almost the whole bottle of alcohol. See this?” he touches a portion of skin closer to his ribs. “If you look closer, you’ll notice that the stitches are very wonky looking. I sewed them by the time I emptied the whisky bottle.”

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital?” Akaashi shifts, leans down, and kisses the scar.

“I told you, I had no medical insurance. The payment was miserable; they didn’t know even my name. I was just the guy who had to jump over the fence. It’s now that everyone stays in line for me; back when I was younger I had to beg on every doorstep for a chance to prove myself and show what I can do.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen, but I lied and said I was twenty.”

“And they believed you?”

“I had the papers.” Kuroo laughs. “But shhh, it’s a secret.”

“The articles written about you say that you’re 33. But in reality, you’re 28?”

“Yep.” Nods Kuroo.

“Is your birthday in April?”

“November 17 th . Sometimes, reporters harass me, and to get them off my back, I give them some answers.”

“Is there at least a tiny bit of truth in any of the stories published about you?”

“Well-” Kuroo muses. “I am a stuntman. The most demanded one, and everything that starts with the words “the most”, is true.” Kuroo smiles.

“What about this one?” Akaashi drags his finger over a scar on Kuroo’s arm.

“I fell from a bike. Not on the set, I was just racing carelessly.”

“This?” Akaashi caresses a thin, almost invisible line across his collarbone.

“Another fence that did not want to submit to me.”

“So you made it submit?” Akaashi drags his palms over Kuroo’s chest, his sides. He studies his fit, sturdy, well-trained body, barely touching the bright-purple or almost fading bruises.

“As if anyone could refuse me.”

Akaashi looks up, and instead of Kuroo’s usual smirk, he is met by a gentle smile.

‘That’s right. It’s impossible.’ He thinks and continues to study Kuroo’s body.

“You have so many bruises.” He says.

“That’s the kind of job I have.” Kuroo smiles, grabbing Akaashi by his shoulders and makes him fall on his chest. Akaashi slips from his embrace, lies next to Kuroo, rests his head on his chest, and hooks one leg over his hips. “You’ve got bruises too.” Kuroo’s fingertips brush the fresh marks on his pale skin.

“You didn’t have to grab me so roughly.”

“Who knew that you could be so delicate, frail, and skinny?” Kuroo caresses his hip bones and the outline of his ribs.

“I worked as a model.”

“So that’s how you got one million followers on Instagram. Why did you quit?”

“Have you ever had to sleep with someone for a role?” Akaashi asks instead of answering.

“No, just for an interview.” Kuroo laughs and kisses Akaashi’s forehead.

“Neither did I. So I quit.” Akaashi put his hand on Kuroo’s stomach, covering the brightest bruise with his palm. His hand looks white against Kuroo’s skin.

“Tell me-” Akaashi speaks again after a short pause. “Why are you always rejecting interviews?”

Kuroo exhales and doesn’t say anything. He’s silent for such a long time Akaashi thinks he won’t answer. He wants to say something else and change the subject, but Kuroo sighs and breaks the silence.

“Because they always get it wrong. You’ve been on the set, so you must already know that recording a fight is not only the director, the stuntmen, and the operator’s job. There’s a whole team behind it. I have not worked alone for a long time, as at the very beginning, when I was fifteen and I learned how to fight, climb roofs and walls, jump from great heights without getting injured, and decided that I could be a stuntman. I only do the tricks, but everything else: the setting, the safety ropes that can be easily removed from the screen frame, calculating every variant, and what could go wrong – all of this is not done by me. We have Yaku, who can get the team good health insurance so that the scars we get later would heal more beautifully. He also checks the readiness of the site before a stunt is performed. Whether it is a fence in a yard or a track on which I have to drift in a car – I can’t do anything without Yaku’s approval. We have Kenma, who sets the tricks, calculates what and how to do, where to attach the safety ropes, where to step, at what point to take a breath so as not to go astray. He puts on the fights. He is not much of a fighter himself, but to plan a fight and make it look flawless from the outside is his talent. Then there’s Lev – a dropout doctor. He quit the med school in his senior year and abandoned his parents then as well. Now he’s helping Yaku check the safety of the set and can bandage, clean, and even sew wounds, but I didn’t test that on myself. There are other people too, someone who plays fights with me, someone who sits behind the wheel when I jump from a car to another.” Kuroo exhales and grazes Akaashi’s shoulder. “Have you ever read any mentions of any of these people in the articles you’ve read before?”

“No.” Akaashi confesses and he starts to understand Kuroo.

“But did you notice any of them on the filming set?”

“Well-” Akaashi tries to remember all the people he saw running around on the set. “The tall one with light hair must be Lev, right? His name is not Japanese, and he doesn’t really look like he’s Japanese himself.”

“Yeah, he’s from Russia. His sister is in our crew as well, she’s responsible for the costumes. When he ran away from home, Lev went to his sister.”

“The tiniest and the noisiest one is Yaku?”

“If you call him tiny, he’ll kick your ass.” Kuroo laughs.

“You’ll save me.”

“I’m powerless against Yaku.”

“I haven’t met the others.” Akaashi admits. “But I would love to.”

Kuroo is silent for an absurdly long time. When he seems to make up his mind, he grabs Akaashi’s chin with his fingers, pulls him close, and kisses him on the lips.

“I will introduce you to them. If you truly want to.”

“I do.” Akaashi smiles. It starts to get cold, so he sits up and pulls the blanket gathered at their feet over them.

“Why did you tell me that?” Akaashi asks, curling next to Kuroo again.

“It’s hard to refuse, especially when there’s such a beautiful and completely naked man lying next to you.” Kuroo says and pulls Akaashi closer. “Plus, I had to pay back for the sex.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes and turns to Kuroo, then bites his shoulder. Bloody Kuroo Tetsurou just won't stop annoying him. The latter just laughs and stretches a little, smacking Akaashi’s ass.

“You know-” Akaashi lays on his stomach and leans on his elbows. “I could write an article about all of you. Not only about Kuroo Tetsurou, the most overestimated stuntman of modern history, but about the whole team.”

“Hey!” Kuroo cries. “I really am the best one!” He looks at Akaashi with utter indignation, then leans closer to him. His breath hits Akaashi’s lips as he speaks: “That would be wonderful.” And then kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!❤️  
> Chat me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/hyugapineapple)


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